This time I'm going to stray from my usual style of writing and do a classic stream of consciousness "blog post"
Why do you ask? Because I need to document something in real-time rather than turn it into a piece of writing.
The you being the bots that crawl through my website and drop links to their own domains.
Robots, my biggest fans.
There's something dark and cartoon-like about the fact that the majority of my 'readers' are robots selling sex toys. How fitting.
And so:
I was visiting back home yesterday minding my own business eating kale and listening to new age spiritual self help podcasts when I sensed something was wrong. Something other than my usual existential confusion. I took my headphones off and heard a mumbling sound coming from the door. I got up and carefully opened the door. There stood my father, 77 years old now, and he was almost in tears, calling me Richard.
I figured out what happened later and I still can scarcely believe it. I hold so much compassion and love for this guy and it pains me to even write about this now but I feel as though I must.
Lets try for a moment to understand what it can be like to have Alzheimer's disease. For my father it manifested thusly:
You wake up from your nap in your room and don't know where you are. Not only that, you don't recognize your room nor do you know who else is in the house. You get up and go to the hallway looking for answers. Inside, you feel a tug. There is something important you must do. There is someone somewhere that you need to find and get answers from. They'll know what to do.
You approach a door and knock politely. You're embarrassed and you don't want to intrude on anyone until you figure out what the hell is happening.
Who knows who is behind the door.
You knock again but there is no answer. So many questions, so many unknowns.
Suddenly you recognize the door.
Your vision darkens.
You brace yourself against the wall. You've done something horribly wrong and that's why the door is closed. They won't talk to you because of what you did.
Images of your past flash through your mind. An encounter you had some time ago when the Alzheimers first started surfaces. There had been a misunderstanding between you and a friend that you couldn't remember. He's behind the door. He doesn't want to talk to you.
You knock again.
You're sorry.
"I'm sorry Richard. I'm sorry for what I've done."
There's no answer.
"If you're mad at me I understand. I was confused... and I..."
Nothing.
"I'm so sorry Richard..."
The dark door looms.
You despair. There's nothing you can do. It's too late... You're alone.
And then. That's when I open it.
I was really shocked to see him in such a state when I opened it. I tried to sooth him and sit with him afterwards while he calmed down. The door had become a literal symbol of his inability to communicate properly and his fears had manifested as punishments for his disease. Yeah, like a god damned bad acid trip!
I told him he had done nothing wrong and that everything was fine. While I was assuring him he didn't actually know who I was. I wanted to be upset at him for this but what can you do? Chastise someone until they remember who you are? Ohhhhh yeah, you're that fucker son that's always yelling at me. The silver lining was his absolute elation when he realized everything was actually okay.
These episodes of confusion are constant and cyclical. The unknown can be exciting but it can also be terrifying. If you ever have a loved one with this condition I implore you to remember, it's not their fault. They can't WILL themselves to remember or figure things out. I think the best thing you can do is assure them that everything is okay. Blaming them for forgetting you will only stress them out and make everything worse.
I believe in free will and I think the most important choice we have is how to react to the suffering in our lives.
No one makes it out of here alive. We might as well get along and enjoy the time and the peace we have while we're here. Amirite?
Matt